She always leaned to watch for us
Anxious if we were late,
In winter by the window,
In summer by the gate.
And though we mocked her tenderly,
Who had such foolish care,
The long way home would seem more safe,
Because she waited there.
Her thought were all so full of us,
She never could forget.
And so I think the where she is,
She must be watching yet.
Waiting till’ we come home to her,
Anxious if we are late.
Watching from Heaven’s window,
Leaning from Heaven’s gate.
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Memorial Verse Print 07 – The Watcher
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